Jack considered his options. Elizabeth had told him he should head as fast as he could to the Isle de la Muerte de Diablo, where they had buried Jones. It was the only place Will could have gone when he left, since it was the only island anywhere to be seen when Will went missing. Elizabeth said he should go and get the chest, then come and negotiate with Will. But Jack knew that by the time he got the chest and caught up with Will, Elizabeth would have no doubt been raped and perhaps tortured. Will had obviously not thought well ahead when turning himself into the devil; he had left the key to the chest on the Pearl. Jack made a decision. He would find the chest and stab Will's heart. He knew Elizabeth didn't want to see her childhood friend and former love die, but in Jack's mind, that had already happened. The good man who had been Will Turner was as gone as if he had died already. Jack knew that the evil that was now Will would hurt his wife, and he wasn't about to let that happen. No negotiation; he had to stab the heart.
When they reached the island, he pulled out his compass, feeling a bit of a sinking feeling. He swore under his breath when the compass pointed stubbornly out to sea. Why did all this have to happen the day after his wedding? What he wanted most was Elizabeth, and he couldn't seem to focus his heart on finding the chest. He sighed, then told the crew to begin digging all over. Then, he stared at the compass; as if by glaring at it he could get the image of his wife in bed out of his head. Then, another image hit him like a bullet to the heart. His wife in bed, but not his bed; his wife being forced by a maniacal devil who claimed he wanted her love. Suddenly, the compass swung in a different direction. Grabbing a shovel, he followed the compass until it swung opposite, telling him he'd gone too far. Finding what appeared to be the right place he dug down and quite quickly found what he was looking for. Jack pulled the small chest out of the sand and set it down. He hoped Elizabeth was alright so far; but he was aware that she had been with Will for some five hours. He hoped she had been able to hold him off.
Elizabeth watched Will nervously. He was pacing; hands held behind his back. Thinking. Perhaps, she hoped, he was rethinking all this evil. Perhaps he would let her go unharmed. She had been here for four and a half hours already, and he hadn't approached her yet. Suddenly, he spun towards her, his eyes colder and harder than she had ever seen. Her hopes faded. "I killed him. Your precious pirate. He's gone. You might as well adjust to loving me; but you don't have to. I'll have you whether you love me or not, you just might enjoy it more if you do." He resumed pacing. After a while, he turned back and marched towards her. "Alright, take off your clothes or I'll cut them off you." "Will, what's happened to you? If you loved me, you'd let me be happy." Will didn't even acknowledge her. He pinned her against the wall and lowered his mouth to hers. His kiss was bruising and vicious. She squirmed, fighting against him. If she had a weapon, she would have killed him then, even though she hadn't wanted Will dead. Then she remembered she couldn't kill him, not without stabbing the heart. This wasn't Will; this was some strange demon who had taken his name.
He pushed her down on the bunk, pulling at her clothes. She punched him as hard as she could, which was enough to break his nose and make him jerk back with a shouted expletive. He wiped his blood, which she noticed was ice blue rather than red, off his face. Then he turned back to her, anger making him incredibly dangerous. He shoved her down beneath him and started cutting her clothes off with his dagger, which he'd grabbed off a small table. She knew he had won. She would be raped, there wasn't really much she could do. She was glad that Jack had had her first; otherwise, this might have spoiled her for physical intimacy forever. But Jack had showed her it could be wonderful.
Just as Elizabeth gave up, though she still hit at Will, she saw blood suddenly go gushing from his chest. Red blood. She looked up, and found the face, not of a monster, but of her childhood friend and love looming above her. He had a shocked look on his face and a giant hole in his chest where his heart had been. He looked at her, half clothed, her dress a tattered mess, then he quickly rolled off.
"Elizabeth. Can you…ever…forgive me? I'm…so sorry. Did I…hurt you?" Elizabeth cried quietly as she watched Will dying. "No, you didn't hurt me. The thing you became was going to hurt me, but…this happened. I'll be fine, and…I forgive you. I love you Will." Elizabeth sobbed as Will breathed his last, a small smile on his lips. She did love him. He was like a brother. She was glad he died forgiven and loved.
She walked out of the cabin and found several relatively normal, but very old, men wondering around on the deck. The ship looked old and creaky and about to sink. So, this was why the Dutchman had been still cursed after Jones' death. The captain must die on the ship to break the curse, and Jones had died on the Black Pearl. She looked at the old men and queried, "Can you take me to the Island of Devil's Death? Please?" she had covered herself with a blanket from Will's bed, she was crying, and she was covered in blood.
The old men agreed, and within three hours they met the Pearl going the other direction. Jack stood on the deck, and grinned when he saw Elizabeth. His grin faded when he noticed that she was covering herself with a blanket and was covered in dry blood. He hoped it wasn't her own. He threw down a boarding plank and held open his arms. Lizzie practically flew across the boarding plank into his embrace, sobbing. Without so much as a glance at the crews off the two ships, who were staring, he picked her up and carried her to his cabin.
"Lizzie. Lizzie, did he hurt you? Are you all right? Whose blood is all this?" She suddenly saw all the blood and began crying harder. He took the blanket off and felt despair at the fact that her clothes had evidently been cut from her. Her dress covered very little. "Did he do it Lizzie? Did he take you?" she sniffled, shaking her head. "No…sniff…He…was about to, but you…snuffle…stabbed his heart. He…he was back to normal…and he was sorry…all the blood…"
Jack wrapped her in a clean blanket, then called some of his men to warm up freshwater from the kegs in the storage room. When they brought it in, he helped her into the tub, then just let her tell everything that had happened while she scrubbed the remainder of Will's blood off. He knew her emotional needs should be foremost in his mind, so he kept his eyes on her face. Nothing was wrong with his peripheral vision though, a fact which he rather enjoyed. She was talking about how she had been sure she was going to be violated, then the horror and relief of Will dying, when she caught Jack peeking downward out of the corner of his eyes. Looking sheepish, he jerked his gaze back to her face. She laughed. "I'm not going to slap you Jack. I'm your wife; you do have rather a right to look." He looked at her, uncharacteristically serious. "I know, it's just…did he make you…afraid? Of being…intimate?" She smiled, stepping out of the tub. She grabbed a towel, dried herself, then sat on the bed and looked at him, grinning mischievously.
"No."
